


Feelings of Ham

by lovingdefiance



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dialogue Heavy, Fluff, Lube, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prostate Massage, Rimming, Safer Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 01:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17972222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovingdefiance/pseuds/lovingdefiance
Summary: “I’mbored,” whined Oma, rolling back and forth idly on his half of Saihara’s bed. He tossed a book on animal husbandry to the floor with a heavy thud and the rustle of settling pages. “Did you know pigs have seven teats on each side? BecauseIdo, and I didn’t really need to know.”A little hammy PWP for the soul.





	Feelings of Ham

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if the whole thing is a bit hammy because of the fluff. Perhaps the real Feelings of Ham were mine all along ( ･᷄ ︵･᷅ )
> 
>  **036\. Feelings of Ham:** How to raise hamsters...is not what this book is about. It's a book about raising domestic animals for meat. For those who are interested in the farming industry.

“I’m _bored,_ ” whined Oma, rolling back and forth idly on his half of Saihara’s bed. He tossed a book on animal husbandry to the floor with a heavy thud and the rustle of settling pages. “Did you know pigs have seven teats on each side? Because _I_ do, and I didn’t really need to know.”

“Now I also know,” Saihara acknowledged politely, his attention still buried in the fictional travel journal he held. “Thank you, Oma-kun.”

“And three to ten days after they’ve weaned the piglets, they’re ready for another round,” Oma continued. “If you keep ignoring me, I’m gonna start telling you allll about what the vaginal discharge means.”

“I get the point. There isn’t really a lot to do in this place,” he said fondly, setting his book to the side. “Is there anything you wanted to talk about? There are still movies we haven’t watched, if you want to go over to the school-”

“Yeah sure, maybe later.” Oma turned, throwing a leg over Saihara’s extended legs on the bed and perching on his lap. The firm weight of his body settled on Saihara’s thighs as he leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “My point is, I can think of something fun we could do, if you’re interested.”

“Oh...” Saihara took in a breath as Oma shot a sly glance at him. He had tried various things with Oma before, but rarely anything beyond a little half-clothed groping and rutting in bed, lazily making out during a movie, wrapping his arms around Oma’s soft, plump form and holding him close. Something about Oma’s attitude seemed more focused than that. “What are you thinking about?”

“Huh, so Saihara-chan’s a little dense when it comes to this kind of stuff, I guess.” Oma tilted his head, eyes wide. “‘Cause I’m not being subtle, like, at all. I wanna do it. Can I take this off?” he asked, touching one of the buttons of Saihara’s jacket. 

“Er...” Saihara, a little overwhelmed by the increasingly amused look in Oma’s eyes, ignored the teasing insult. “Yes.”

“Great! Looks like I'm in luck after all,” Oma murmured, plucking the buttons of Saihara’s uniform jacket open one by one. He looked genuinely delighted by even Saihara’s familiar dress shirt, pushing his uniform jacket off his shoulders with careful hands, bright with fascination as he unfastened the buttons underneath. “I guess I should be saying _you’re_ lucky, huh?” he corrected himself absentmindedly, but for the first time since Saihara had met him he seemed disinterested in his own words. “Getting to try it on with someone as important as me.”

Saihara wondered with some concern whether the animal husbandry book was responsible for getting Oma in the mood, but with a shiver he shook the idea away. It was impossible. He was certain it was impossible.

“I think that’s not even a lie,” Saihara offered instead in an attempt at support, watching nervously as Oma’s gaze flicked up to his with a spark of amusement. Anxiety flickered low in his belly as Oma pushed his shirt away and threw the discarded clothes to the floor, touching his bare chest with a hand that seemed almost reverent. He glided the pads of his fingers over one nipple, hardened with exposure to the cool air of the room. “I...I need to ask. It wasn’t the pig book that made you…”

“Whaaat!? No! Oh, unless that’s a lie.” Oma shook his head and snorted, giggling at the ridiculousness of the idea. “It is, by the way, pigs _really_ turn me on. Does that feel good, Saihara-chan?” he asked, teasing gently at Saihara's chest. "Imagine how much better it would feel if you had, like, seven on each side-"

“It doesn’t feel like much,” he interrupted honestly, doing his best to avert further pig trivia. Oma moved on, humming in thoughtful acknowledgement, to touch the button of his pants. Saihara abruptly noticed that Oma’s gaze was leveled at his face again in unspoken question. “Y-yes,” he stammered, nodding and lying back on the bed. Oma nodded back as he moved down the bed to free Saihara's legs, undoing the button and carefully drawing down the zipper. He pulled the cloth away in a smooth motion, looking at Saihara’s exposed legs and the half-tent in his boxers with singleminded focus.

Saihara had expected Oma to move fast and talk a lot, to make vague references to his organization and the amount of people who would want to be with him. That was no surprise. He hadn’t anticipated Oma’s serious curiosity, the way he handled Saihara’s body with careful fascination. Oma glanced up at him again, one milk-white hand hovering over his abdomen and the band of his boxers, until he nodded shyly and looked away. Oma’s fingers felt cool on his fevered skin as he lifted the fabric clear of his flesh. He drew it down his legs to expose him completely.

Saihara found himself unable to look away for long; he watched Oma’s gaze drop between his legs instead, his expression rapt with concentration as though the sight of Saihara's exposed, hardening cock was fascinating. He looked focused on his actions in a way that knotted Saihara’s guts and shredded his composure. “Soooo?” he asked, glancing up. “Can I touch you, _mon petit cochon_?” Saihara nodded curtly despite not understanding the French, his face so hot that he could imagine his body spontaneously combusting. “Hmm…”

“What is it?”

“Are you really, totally sure?” He sat back on his knees between Saihara's splayed legs, smiling. “You should know, I hate it when people lie to me.”

“I’m _not_ lying,” he protested. “It isn’t that I’m...uninterested.” With a significant effort of will he raised his knees and shifted himself down, leaving himself bare for examination - his cock hard against his thigh, his legs spread as though offering himself up. Oma watched his movements with the same obvious interest, for all the world like someone checking out something new and exciting. He looked delighted at the sight, Saihara realized. “I don’t know what to do when you look at me like that,” he blurted out, reflexively covering his own mouth as he said it.

"Nishishi. Just shy, huh? _Wellllll..._ " Had Saihara been less focused on Oma’s face, he might have missed the way his expression blanked for an instant before changing to a condescending smirk. “You should be flattered,” Oma said ominously, one finger hovering in front of his lips like an ill omen. “Obviously, people have always thrown themselves at me left and right, attracted to the power I represent as the supreme leader of evil. So this scene is nothing new to me, but you’re something special. ‘Cause I really like you, y’know?” He stroked the outside of one bare thigh with his palm. “That’s a lie, though.”

Saihara stared at him, positive that Oma had started to put on an act but uncertain what it meant. “Which part of it is a lie?” His hand felt so warm, his palms soft and smooth as if Oma had never worked a day in his life. He stroked the length of Saihara’s thigh in an almost soothing motion, up and down, strangely gentle.

“Which part do you think?” His touch was like that of someone calming a skittish horse. The thought was humiliating, but there was something almost endearing about the way he backed off so readily - as though he were eager to talk it all out. “Does it matter?” He leaned forward. “But okaaaay, fine...I _do_ like Saihara-chan.”

“Um…”

“Eh, you didn’t say it back. Lame...” Despite the words, his face remained unchanged. “Do you think I could just lie about liking someone?”

Saihara paused to give it serious thought. “Yes,” he concluded. Oma smiled and squeezed lightly at the thigh in his hand. “I don’t think you’re doing it right now, but...I think you could.”

“Wow, brutal honesty. You're exactly right, I _would_ be able to lie about liking someone! You didn’t let me get away with it. It’s almost scary how well Saihara-chan understands me.” He tilted his head to the side with a small grin, resting his face on Saihara’s raised knee, his eyes alight with what looked like genuine and undisguised warmth. “I could do that, but I’m not doing it right now.”

“And even if that’s not true, it’s a kind lie, right?” Saihara asked, smiling a little bitterly despite himself at the thought. Oma’s expression shifted, blank and then thoughtful.

“Do you think that would be kind?” he asked. The conversation had left Saihara in a different frame of mind; strangely, though he felt a little cold, the fact of his nakedness had stopped bothering him. Oma had seen him, looked at his entire body, and reacted with enthusiastic interest. There was nothing for Saihara's anxiety to cling to. Oma's attention remained focused on his words.

“Doesn't everyone get what they want that way?”

“Hmm...that means you _want_ me to like you,” Oma noted with clinical interest.

Saihara paused in genuine confusion. Oma’s calm reaction felt different than his earlier joking responses. Less energetic and confident, perhaps, as though Saihara had caught him off guard. “That’s normal, isn’t it? Wanting the person you’re with to like you.”

“But maybe that's Saihara-chan's lie,” Oma explained, his posture relaxed. “Maybe you just want to know what it’s like, being with someone like this, and I’m someone you don’t have to take too seriously.” He shrugged, the soft tendrils of his hair stirring ticklishly around Saihara’s knee. “Y’know, someone you don’t have to trust, or like, or-”

“It’s not like that at all,” he interrupted defensively, grimacing at Oma’s carefree tone and the way he brightly smiled. " _I'm_ not like that."

Oma shrugged, unruffled. “But even if you didn’t care, it would be a kind lie to tell me you do, wouldn’t it?”

“No, it wouldn’t!” Saihara was startled at how sharply the words came out. “I wouldn’t do this if it didn’t mean something."

“Nah, of course not. 'Cause Saihara-chan's a good person,” he continued blithely, his voice light and unconcerned. " _You're_ not like that, right? But if you can’t trust someone, they’re probably out to get you, so it makes sense to maintain some distance. That’s just self-defense, riiight?”

Saihara stared at him in utter confusion. “I'm not sure what you mean,” he confessed. Oma stared unreadably back. His smile remained, but Saihara had seen enough smiles from him to detect something detached in his expression, a reserved distance. “Did I..." He trailed off, doubting the possibility. "Did I hurt your feelings?”

“Eww, nope." Oma inspected his fingernails, smiling absently. "When did this start being about _my_ feelings? Gross, Saihara-chan. I'm not such a wimp that I'd get all worked up over a few stupid lies. Or someone calling me a liar, which is one hundred percent true anyway, y'know? Nishishi..." He directed his gaze back toward Saihara with a crooked grin, his eyes narrowing. "I'm just making sure Saihara-chan's into what I'm offering, that's all.” _Oh,_ thought Saihara, and sat up with some difficulty.

“I'm glad," he began, trying to read Oma's smile. "I think I understand, though. It wouldn't be kind. Oma-kun _is_ a liar, but...he wouldn't tell that sort of lie unkindly, I think.” He hesitated before reaching out, pushing the soft curls of Oma’s hair back from his face. They caught on Saihara’s ragged cuticles as he tucked a few errant swoops of violet behind Oma’s ear, his hand brushing a pale cheek. "It's the same for everyone. I believe you." It was a thoroughly awkward gesture, nothing he had ever imagined himself doing. Suddenly he felt very conscious again of his own body. Oma gave no indication of approval or disgust.

“What's this, some kinda apology? For what?” He grinned carelessly up at Saihara. A long curl of hair escaped from behind his ear and hung at the side of his face, giving him a rakish look. There was something achingly attractive about it, but Saihara thought about his earlier fascination, the way he had stripped Saihara’s uniform away like he was discovering something exciting. There was a definite difference. “Hey Saihara-chan, this is boring. Want me to make you feel good?” His fingertips skimmed down Saihara’s inner thigh, the feeling of his touch trailing electricity along the skin.

His half-hard cock twitched embarrassingly as though wanting to jump into Oma’s hand. Saihara closed his eyes and took a nervous breath. He _wanted_ \- he wanted that touch, and the ease of handing the reins of the encounter over, and whatever else was meant by the playful grin Oma shot at him when he opened his eyes again. It mattered, though, the difference between Oma’s expressions. There had been no mistaking the warm regard earlier. “Not like that.”

“Okay.” Oma gently withdrew his hand and moved back, giving Saihara room on the bed. "You want some space? I could go back to my room-"

“Wait!” he said too quickly. “C-can...can I do it for you instead?”

“Wow, sure, you _could_ try to go back to my room! You don’t have the key, though.”

“You know what I mean.” He felt the heat rising from his cheeks again, forced himself to look back at Oma’s inquisitive face. Oma shrugged and reclined back on his elbows, smiling absently as Saihara crawled forward and knelt between his legs.

“Trying to prove it to me now?” he lilted. “That you really, reeeally care? Saihara-chan, that wasn’t the point.”

“I got the point. I still want to show you,” Saihara said quietly, reaching out. "If it’s okay.” His hands trembled as he unwound Oma’s scarf to expose the ivory column of his throat. Oma lay back, permissive. He looked different without the long bandana. The low, ragged neckline of his uniform framed the faint contour of his clavicle beneath a soft layer of flesh, his shoulders surprisingly broad, his frame petite but developed. Saihara wanted, as always, to explore him.

“Stop taking it so seriously," Oma murmured. "It's not that important.”

“I think it's important.” He leaned forward, infinitely daring, to press his mouth to the tender skin of his throat. Oma tilted his head back in an unresisting arch as Saihara ungracefully fumbled with the clasps of his uniform, clambering awkwardly on top of him.

“That's still not the point.” His voice vibrated in his throat, a soft buzz against Saihara’s mouth. He planted awkward kisses arbitrarily along the skin of his neck instead of answering, sucking lightly where he felt Oma’s pulse against his lips and feeling Oma tremble for a moment beneath him. It was warm there, and soft, and there was a hint of aroma under the familiar shampoo scent of his hair that was distinctly Oma. Even with his own pulse suddenly throbbing in his head, echoing between his legs, Saihara scraped together enough brain capacity to put together a sentence.

“Mm...I'll listen if you want to talk about it.”

The clasps gave way at last under Saihara’s attempts to undo them. He gratefully switched to the buttons. “You said I could lie,” Oma murmured. "But you didn't accuse me of doing it." Oma’s uniform fell open at last beneath his hands. Saihara stared at the soft, rounded curves of his body, the warmth of the skin beneath his curious hand as he rested one palm on Oma’s abdomen. He was soft there, a tender give at odds with Saihara’s increasingly defined core muscles. “That's the truth of what you said. Since you wanna be so serious.” His belly moved when he spoke, rising and flattening out a little with each steady breath under Saihara’s palm. Saihara continued to stare, wondering if he looked stupid but unable to look away.

The words meant increasingly little against the rising heat in his body, the warmth curling low in his abdomen. “It wouldn’t be kind.” He had no idea where to begin, though a glance down confirmed that Oma seemed to be as excited by the exploration as he himself was. It occurred to him that Oma had ceased looking at his body, instead making eye contact with him. Despite his excitation, he was keeping his hands flat on the bed as he allowed Saihara to undress him. Saihara had no idea what to make of it.

“As expected of Saihara-chan, you understood more than I thought you would, though I still don’t think you understand the value of lies...” He shrugged again, utterly placid, a tiny motion. “But if you could just push me away a little, then you’re safe. ‘Cause if you never trusted me anyway, what can I do to you? I can’t hurt you if you just make it really, reeeeally clear I’m untrustworthy.”

“Well, I...hmm.” He withdrew his hand reluctantly, pondering.

“Y’know, it's okay if you want a little distance.” He paused. “You get it, right? It’s not stupid, ‘cause I _am_ a liar, after all. So you don’t gotta do this to prove some point.”

Suddenly Oma’s passivity made horrible sense. “No, that’s wrong!” he protested fervently, feeling a chill as though the coiling heat in his belly had been doused with cold water. “I want to do this…” He centered himself and took a shivering breath, averting his gaze to the wall. “That's what you were offering me before, wasn't it?" he realized. "But I can’t really want that kind of distance, or I would have just let you make me feel good. I said no.” Despite his clear logic, he felt like an inexperienced fraud, though on a more emotional level than when he was merely playing at detective work. Again, Oma gave him no reaction. “I want to get closer to you,” he continued, despising the way it timidly fell from his mouth. He cleared his mind, the highways of his thoughts stretching out in front of him in search of a definite conclusion. “You said that you care, and that you got pushed away. And I think, if you care, then it hurts to get pushed away. So I’m sorry.”

“Huh…” Oma propped himself up on his elbows again, staring unreadably as the smile vanished from his face. “Wow, Saihara-chan’s uncharacteristically passionate about sparing my feelings here.”

“Can I take this off?” he asked instead of responding, sliding his fingers under the open uniform top to cup the soft curve of one shoulder. “I want to see you.”

“Hmm. Sure, why not?” He tilted his head, still reclining back on his elbows, and to Saihara’s infinite relief he saw it - a mischievous quirk of his lips, a hint of interest. “If you’re accepting me now, does that mean you’re gonna join my organization?”

“No, absolutely not.” He pushed the uniform top back, watching Oma pull his arms out of the sleeves one at a time.

“Nishishi.” Saihara touched lightly at his soft belly, along the waistband of his pants, and glanced up for a response just as Oma had done for him. “Yeah, go ahead.” He pulled the snap open and carefully drew the zipper down, face burning as he began to pull the pants away.

“Huh,” he said, staring at the neon stripes of the boxers underneath.

“Pretty stylish, right?” Oma offered a salacious wink when he glanced up in confusion. “I got a certain image to uphold, y’know, but something like this is nice too.”

“Um, probably. I wouldn’t know. Yes.” He eased his fingers beneath and lifted it all away to expose him completely. “You...you do look good,” he acknowledged too late as he pulled the rumpled mess of clothes down Oma’s legs and over his feet, depositing the clothes in a heap on the floor. The fact that he had successfully done it left him almost dizzy with relief. Oma’s cock rested flushed and half-hard against one pale thigh, a nice visual. Saihara made a token attempt not to look at it too hard. His calves were slim, his knees bony, but the flesh of his thighs looked soft and pudgy - surprisingly lush, a fact that Saihara would never have suspected.

“Ooh, I look gooood? Wearing it or not wearing it?”

“B...both? Either way?” he attempted, covering his lips with a nervous hand. He was, despite his token attempt, staring.

“Wow, that’s pretty hot,” Oma sang out, fanning himself with one hand. “High praise from Saihara-chan!”

“Ah…”

“But I guess it’s working, huh? I’m obviously into it.” He lay back with his hands clasped behind his head. “Well, you wanted to run the show, so c'mon already.”

“What!? I don’t...what do you want me to do?” He looked up in consternation for any sort of response and found Oma watching him again, alight with amusement. Despite his lordly mien he looked affectionate again, fond and receptive. “Oh,” he said, a wave of relief washing over him, and leaned forward to kiss him. Oma responded easily, tilting his face into it and raising one arm to cup Saihara’s cheek in a small hand.

“Mm. Is that all?” he asked softly as Saihara pulled back. He looked genuinely delighted, his eyes sparkling. His delicate fingers stroked restlessly through Saihara’s hair without pushing him down, pressing at his scalp without any real force. “I wanna do all kinds of stuff with you, y’know.”

“Yeah…” Saihara licked his lips nervously. “Me too.” It was good to be so close, to see Oma alight again with something like fond regard. It was better to watch him go lax and delighted with pleasure than to watch his bright, fake smile. He was finally close, Saihara thought, maybe the closest he had ever been to Oma, but he wanted to be closer - to see how good he could make Oma feel, what kinds of noises he could draw out of him. If it was all for that, he thought, he could probably go through with everything he was thinking. “Can I touch you?”

“Uh, yeah, of course.” Oma moved a little uncertainly at the press of a hand against his side, but quickly he seemed to figure out what Saihara wanted, rolling himself over and lifting himself up on his knees. “You’re feeling eager, huh?” he asked as Saihara cautiously spread him open. He slipped a small hand under the pillow and emerged with lube, tossing it carelessly back on the bed. “Well, I’m ready, so whatever.”

Saihara ignored the lubricant. Oma was, to Saihara’s decreasing surprise, equally soft behind - pale and round and plump as _daifuku_ , the delicate whiteness of his skin growing dusky around the tightness of his hole. “It’s fine,” Oma continued dismissively, “I’m all clean for-!” He trailed off into a startled noise at the sudden pressure of Saihara’s mouth against him, a strangled _oh!_ that spurred Saihara on.

Satisfied by the reaction, Saihara ran his tongue up and across the tight muscle, listening to his sudden intake of breath. He tasted like nothing - he smelled of soap, mostly, and maybe the faint musk of sweat, but the way his body tensed up like a drum was worth every experimental second as Saihara kissed more roughly at him, licked a little harder at the sensitive skin and felt the muscle beneath his tongue twitch and tighten. Oma’s entire body pressed back as though demanding attention. Saihara withdrew in response, tightening his grip around the plush give of him. “More,” Oma whined, squirming against his hands. “Don’t stop.”

“Do you like this?” he asked, admiring the faint shine of saliva on his skin.

“ _More_ ,” Oma repeated, a tightness in his voice that was nothing like the airy, careless tone from before. Saihara pressed an open-mouthed kiss to him and sucked gently at his rim, relishing the choked-off little cry he made in response and the soft, wet sounds of his own mouth on Oma’s flesh. It was a good reaction - Oma shuddered and pushed against his hands as though struggling to spread himself further, presenting himself in a way that made Saihara dizzy with how unashamed and desperate he was for it. A harder kiss and suck at his hole left Oma trembling, his breath coming out in vocal little cries even when Saihara returned to gentler open-mouthed kisses, vague imprecise suction that had him squirming restlessly.

“More?” Saihara asked. Oma shivered, his hand already wrapping around himself. “Not yet,” he said, surprising himself with his own daring as he slipped his own hand between Oma’s legs and pushed his arm away.

“You’re giving me orders?” Oma asked, clearly aiming for haughtiness and coming off breathy and startled.

“Think of it as a request,” Saihara suggested before leaning forward again, sucking gently, pressing the tip of his tongue carefully against the tight pucker. Oma made a sound, an incoherent, throaty cry, and shuddered along the entire length of his spine as Saihara pressed forward into him.

“A-ahh,” he said unsteadily, “if...oh, if you put it like _that_ , nishishi…” Saihara worked patiently at him, a careful slide in and out, feeling Oma move eagerly against his hands in response. He had felt tense at first, just as Saihara had suspected despite his easy bravado - the extra attention had left him relaxed, eager for stimulation. The longer Saihara went on, withdrawing to suck at him, gently penetrating him, the more he shifted restlessly and relaxed his muscles against the steady attention. "More," he finally said, half-muffled in the pillow.

Saihara withdrew, flicking the cap open on the lube and drizzling it over two of his fingers. “It's okay?”

“Oh…” Oma seemed distracted by the sound of the cap, glancing over his shoulder at the sight. “Yeah, I'll let you stop for now. Just as long as you keep me entertained, okay?”

Saihara smiled despite himself, leaning in to give him a last teasing, sucking kiss and relishing in the bitten-off noise he made. “I’ll do my best, Oma-kun.” He slipped a lubed finger inside, stroking gently up the inner wall until he felt the faint firmness and shape sliding beneath his massaging fingertip. “Is it still fine?”

“Obviously,” he said a little impatiently. “I can take more than that. This is way more boring than what you were doing with your mouth, Saihara-chan.”

“Sorry,” Saihara said, attempting a soothing tone and withdrawing to add a second finger. He found it again and stroked patiently, a featherlight touch that went on and on until Oma squirmed back and pushed him harder inside.

“Oh…” He sounded hazily surprised at the sensation. Saihara smiled and pressed a little harder, letting his fingertips skim along either side of the shape and taking his time. It was definitely swollen, he thought. Oma was probably feeling it, the building pleasure, the growing pressure inside him. He had gone almost uncharacteristically quiet again.

“Does it feel okay?”

“Feels...weird,” he murmured. Saihara felt tremors coursing through Oma’s small frame - his arms quivered and he lowered his chest to the bed, resting his face sideways on the pillow. “You’re in me pretty deep, aren’t you?”

“Just a few inches. Is it uncomfortable?”

“No…” Oma sighed and quivered, panting softly, his expression somewhere between intrigued and aroused. “How did you learn to do this?”

“Um…” He cleared his throat, careful to keep the pressure of his massaging fingers even and steady. Oma clenched around him fitfully, little twitches of the muscles around his fingers as though to pull him deeper. “By...myself...?”

“Didn’t think you were the adventurous type.” Oma giggled, a breathless little whinny. “Harder.”

“Ah, thanks.” He pressed in a little more roughly, rewarded by a half-muffled whimper as Oma buried his face in the cushion. “I think. Was it a compliment?”

“Less...boring than I expected…” He shivered again, harder, fingers clenching in the sheets. “I’m...I think I’m getting closer…? I feel weird, it’s…” Saihara listened, steadily massaging inside him with both fingertips.

“If it’s too much, let me know.”

“You really _do_ always surprise me,” Oma mumbled, half-into the pillow. “Is this all you wanted to do with me?” He lifted his face a little, directed a sideways look into Saihara’s eyes. “You could put it in me. We could both-”

“I do like you,” he said a little awkwardly. He paused, though his fingers continued to steadily work Oma toward his peak. His legs had already begun to tremble, his body so responsive to touch that it was like a dream.

“What? You’re back to that?” Oma giggled breathlessly, tightening with laughter. “Saihara-chan has the stupidest timing. First you made out with my butt, then you’re two fingers deep in me, and _now_ you’re gonna say you like me?”

“I want to get closer to you,” he said, keeping his voice level and serious. “You won’t believe me if I just tell you, right?” Oma quivered, a shudder running down his spine. His body clenched tight around Saihara’s probing fingers as though responding to the words.

“You...” Oma said, but seemed to lose his train of thought. His eyes had taken on a hazy look; he licked his lips, his expression going vague. “That wasn’t the point, I knew that you...”

“I don’t want that kind of distance,” Saihara persisted, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise to his own face. It was easier without Oma staring at him with a bright, uncaring smile - it was easier with Oma half-burying his face in a pillow, his expression uncertain and maybe a little overwhelmed, flushed and softly perspiring. “Does it still feel good?”

“Yeah…” He shifted his hips back against Saihara’s slow pace.

“I want it to feel good,” he continued, patiently teasing at him, reaching out with his other hand to feel the softness of the pale thighs before him. Oma jerked at the unexpected contact but relaxed quickly, spreading his legs a little further in response. It was easier, he realized, to say even the most horribly embarrassing things with Oma in this condition.

“Nishishi…” Even his sardonic laugh sounded soft, wavering. His body trembled with tension, his rim twitching and pulling as though struggling to get Saihara deeper inside him; he panted softly, shuddering closer and closer to the edge. “I think I'm there, I'm...Saihara-chan, it's gonna-”

“I like Oma-kun,” he murmured, and felt the tight clench of muscle around his probing fingers. Oma made a bitten-off noise and shuddered violently as he went suddenly over the edge into prostate orgasm, his entire frame wracked with uncontrollable shaking as Saihara fingered him carefully through the waves that rocked him. His hips jerked in small, helpless motions, every exhalation a soft cry like the intensity would break him apart as clear precome leaked from his cock.

“Oh,” he gasped as though the air was being forced out of him. Saihara continued to steadily milk the fluid from his body as he shook and whimpered, his noises half-muffled in the pillow. “Oh, _ahh_ , Sa...Saihara-cha-!”

“I want to get closer to you," he said as Oma stifled a few last cries into the cushion, his body stilling. “I’ll show you as long as you need.” He cleared his throat. “Um, because...because we did it like this, you can go again whenever you want.”

“Ewww...aren’t you embarrassed to be saying that kinda thing? I didn’t think Saihara-chan had it in him to talk about all this sappy garbage,” Oma mumbled, twitching weakly as he turned his head to the side. “Forget it. Take those out, I don’t think I have anything else left.” Saihara cautiously withdrew his fingers, watching Oma’s body tighten and hearing his quiet sigh.

“Of course,” he admitted. Oma kept his hips up, legs splayed artlessly to either side. “It’s embarrassing, but…”

“Gimme a minute, and then you can put it in me. You wanna?”

“I’d like that.” Saihara smiled gently, stroking again at the tender softness of one thigh. “Did that feel good, Oma-kun?”

“Are you joking?” Oma’s back rose and fell with panting breaths. “I’ve never...wow, I’m still hard. That’s what you meant, huh? 'Cause I still wanna go for it...”

“Okay,” he said softly, slipping two fingers back in and finding him pliant. He stretched again, careful and firm, before kneeling behind Oma. “You’ve got protection, right?” he asked. Oma fumbled under the pillow and threw a foil wrapper back at him with a grunt. He opened it and rolled the condom over himself, smearing extra lubricant along his own length. “Are you really ready?”

“Yeah. Saihara-chan took forever already, how could I not be?” Saihara exhaled slowly, gripping himself and pressing the head of his cock gently against the taut muscle. “I’m probably like a greased pig in there with how much you lubed me up,” Oma added unnecessarily. Saihara took a deep breath and braced himself, trying to think about math equations and trivia before he pressed the tip of his cock inside.

"Please," he said softly, "don't mention pigs-"

“Ah!” Oma gasped, interrupting him. Even without the clear visual of Oma’s eyes closing tight, his teeth gritting, Saihara could hear the way his breath caught abruptly in his throat like a sob.

“It hurts?” he asked, pulling back. The breath burst out of Oma in a shaky noise; his thin fingers clenched in the sheets, his white knuckles going even paler.

"Nah, I’ll get used to it.” Saihara lay a cautious hand on his lower back. “I’ll get used to it!” he snapped. “C’mon, don’t be so _boring_.”

“It’s not exciting for me either if you’re not having fun,” he said, choosing his words carefully. Oma let out an irritable huff, turning his head away.

“I can make it work,” Oma said, raising his hips as though trying to present himself. “You still wanna, right?” Saihara placed a hand on the soft flesh of his ass, stroking and squeezing a plush handful. His cock throbbed at the sight of Oma presented that way, the tight dark skin of his hole. He lifted his other hand to coax Oma gently down.

“Oma-kun...of course I do. Could we try it with you on your back?” Oma rolled over, his expression fierce and surprisingly serious.

“You’re not gonna break me, I know what I’m doing.”

“We could do it like that. But it didn’t look like Oma-kun was enjoying it,” he said patiently, pulling a cushion from the head of the bed and coaxing Oma’s hips up to slide it beneath him. “I...want to watch Oma-kun enjoying it. So let’s try it like this, okay?”

“Saihara-chan,” he said irritably, then went silent. "You're kinda forward like this, huh? I don't dislike that." Saihara paused to look up at him and found his expression unreadable. Nothing more seemed forthcoming. He carefully picked up Oma’s legs, bracing them on his own shoulders. It took only a minute to relubricate his fingers and gently stretch Oma again, finding him lax and ready.

“Are you still okay?” Oma nodded resolutely, staring up at him with fierce eyes and reaching down to hold his own legs up and apart. He looked even more exposed that way, his cock dusky and hard against his belly, his pale abdomen and thighs rounded and lush. “You look really good,” he said softly, leveling his cock again and pressing, pressing inside. “Push out a little bit,” he breathed, and felt Oma’s body open slightly to accept him. “Ah, Oma-kun…”

“Go slow,” Oma blurted suddenly. Saihara pulled slightly out before pressing in millimeter by millimeter, breathing deep and trying to focus on anything but the slick heat slowly drawing him in, the way Oma’s eyelids fluttered.

“Okay. Right, okay,” he repeated, closing his eyes for a moment to collect himself. “Is that better?” Oma nodded uncertainly, his expression stark with exertion and the discomfort of something larger and thicker pressing carefully into him, but it was nothing like the moment of agony he had shown earlier. Saihara smiled in relief at the sight, lightheaded with the incredible feeling of Oma’s body tight and hot and willing around him.

“Saihara-chan's got a pretty dumb face right now,” Oma said, staring up at him.

“Um, sorry…” Saihara let out a harsh breath, shivering as Oma clenched around him for a moment. “Ah, Oma-kun. Does it hurt?”

“Not too much.” Oma continued to gaze at him, the exertion slowly melting out of his features as Saihara moved in and out one final time, found his hips pressed firmly against Oma. “I must feel good inside to make you look that stupid, huh?”

“I don’t even know how to describe it,” Saihara said quietly. “But I’m glad it doesn’t hurt anymore...?” He tried not to think about it too hard, the way Oma pressed so tight and feverishly hot around him even through the thin layer of latex; he carefully avoided looking down at where his cock vanished into Oma’s body, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment as Oma leveled a smug grin at him.

“Told you that you were lucky.” Oma sighed as Saihara pulled carefully back before sliding back in, everything thoroughly slicked up, Oma’s muscles twitching around him but slowly starting to adjust to the thrusting motion. Saihara breathed deeply, reaching down to replace one of Oma’s hands with his own to hold his thigh in place as he continued to steadily thrust, rocking Oma's body into the mattress.

“You can...touch yourself,” he said, gradually speeding up his motions and watching carefully for any sign of pain. Oma tilted his head back, his expression rapt as though with concentration. “I won’t be able to - ahh - hold out...for long.”

“I’m just too good for you, huh? Nishishi…” Perspiration broke out on Oma’s flushed skin as he seized his own cock and stroked it to full hardness again. “Nngh, that’s what, ooh-" He shivered, gripping himself tightly. "That's what everyone says.”

“I’m glad it’s not just me,” Saihara breathed, keeping the same pace and waiting for Oma's muscles to adjust to the sensation before gradually speeding up. To his relief he found Oma’s body prepared for the new pace, rocking back against him as he pushed eagerly inside. Oma gasped softly, his exhalations going from harsh to soft, helpless vocalizations, his eyes half-closed and glazed as though he were seeing something far away. Sweat beaded at the edges of his forehead and dampened his hair. Saihara stared at his expression, losing the rhythm as electricity arced low in his belly, ran hot and bright up his spine. It was happening embarrassingly fast, but Oma seemed to be almost equally carried away in it, his pale hand working hungrily at his own dark-flushed cock.

“Feels good,” Oma panted, “it’s good, I’m...I’m close. Don’t stop-”

“I’ll try,” promised Saihara, desperate to hold on. Remembering Oma's actions earlier, he raised a hand and reached around Oma’s leg to stroke a dark nipple with his fingertips.

“ _Ah,_ ” Oma gasped, tightening unbearably hot and sweet as he jerked himself feverishly, tipping his head back with a cry as Saihara pinched and teased his chest. He shuddered as come spurted from his cock, landing in white strands across his belly as he writhed on the bed, fitfully jerking himself through the spasms. “Ah, haaa!”

“Oma-kun, I can’t-” Saihara doubled over at the sight and the reaction, clutching at Oma’s legs and coming as though he would never stop. He thrust and gripped at Oma in unsteady motions, emptying himself out as though squeezed from inside, closing his eyes tight as the sensation washed hotly over his body and whited his vision out for a long moment. He trembled, hips jerking helplessly in a total absence of rhythm, panting harshly as the feeling coiled hot inside him and burst like fireworks. “Ngh, I’m-! I’m sorry-”

“For _what_?” Oma panted, grimacing as Saihara slowly, cautiously began to pull out of him. “Oof, I get it, still sensitive. Ew, and I’m kinda a mess now, huh?”

“I know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Saihara stroked his thigh in a soothing motion, echoing what Oma had done for him, and smiled a little dazedly down at him as he finished slipping out. “Thank you.”

“Nishishi...Saihara-chan.” Oma grinned easily, reaching toward the nightstand for tissues as he slowly lowered his legs around Saihara’s hunched form. “Guess I’ll let you live after all. That _was_ pretty interesting.”

“Ah, thank you. Um, I was a little surprised myself, but I...I'm glad it didn't hurt.” Saihara watched as Oma cleaned himself up a little awkwardly, his mind still fuzzy with relief. “Do you feel okay?”

“Ugh, I feel _fine_ ,” he yawned, stretching his legs out and wincing. “Incredible - well, okay, that’s a lie. I feel kinda weird still. But not _bad_ weird, more like, mmm.” He smiled lazily, setting the tissues on the bedside table. “Did Saihara-chan have fun?”

“Of course." With Oma recovered, his expression smug and self-satisfied again, Saihara found himself just as shy as usual. He sat back on his heels and carefully rolled the condom off his softening cock, tying the latex into a small knot.

“Hey, Saihara-chan,” Oma whispered. There was a laxity to his tone, a warmth in the slow smile that spread across his face. Saihara tilted his head inquisitively, admiring the soft flush of his cheeks, the sated expression in his gaze. "Guess what?"

"Yes?" he asked. Oma's smile widened, his eyes narrowing into shimmering slits of satisfaction.

"Oink oink."

**Author's Note:**

>  _Mon petit cochon_ \- "my little piglet"
> 
> Actually, the real Feelings of Ham were the friends we've made along the way ( •̀‿•́ )


End file.
